


Scars, Reunions, and Departures

by Nomelah



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Additional Tags to Be Added, Angst, Blowjobs, Costume Parties & Masquerades, Drinking, F/M, FWB, Fall of Overwatch, Flashbacks, Flirting, Friends With Benefits, Friends to Lovers, Light Dom/sub, Miscommunication, Monsters Inc References, Oral Sex, Pain, Pre-Fall of Overwatch, Smut, Spies, Tenderness, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, vague plot
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-25
Updated: 2020-08-23
Packaged: 2021-03-04 02:40:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 15,958
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24906214
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nomelah/pseuds/Nomelah
Summary: Some scars fade slower than others. Some reunions are simpler, and departures easier.
Relationships: Reaper | Gabriel Reyes & Reader, Reaper | Gabriel Reyes/Reader
Comments: 14
Kudos: 72





	1. Masquerade

Your feet were cold. Your whole legs were freezing actually. Groaning, you shivered, attempting to draw them up into the warmth of the blanket. There was a movement at your back, a quiet rustling of the sheets. Your breath caught in your throat, eyes snapping open as the fog lifted from your addled brain. His breathing was slow and steady, stark in comparison to the panic that was beginning to take you as recollections of the night before hit you like a hypertrain. 

…

Gabe had once been a close friend. The two of you had been tight since the Omnic Crisis. You’d fought side by side for years; he probably knew you better than your own mother. At least he had, a long time ago anyway. After your retirement from Overwatch and taking the job with the United Nations, the two of you had grown apart. Weekly calls turned into monthly, into once every few months or so, into never. Nothing had happened, just time and distance. He hadn’t slipped your mind completely, he still appeared in your thoughts from time to time, or whenever Overwatch was mentioned by a coworker or on the news. A flash of his face, how he had looked before the world had really gotten to him, would come to your mind. You’d picture the look he’d give you whenever you told a bad joke, his half-hearted disgust as he fought to hold back a grin. Just a flash, and then he would be gone, leaving you with a bittersweet taste in your mouth.

And then last night: the United Nations Masquerade Gala, thrown to commemorate the six-year anniversary of the Omnic Crisis’ end. The ballroom of the Beau-Rivage palace had been packed with a mixture of high society, celebrities, war heroes, some of Overwatch’s finest, and so many others, all hidden behind masks. Chatter and music-filled what space was left in the opulent hall. You had attended alone, having decided at the last minute you would go after peer pressure from your coworkers (apparently you were “too quiet and didn’t know how to have fun”, and in a lapse of judgement, you decided to prove them wrong, you could be fun, you were a god damned veteran of Overwatch). 

So you found yourself standing quietly with a few of your coworkers, nodding along and smiling whenever attention was shifted to you, a champagne flute in your gloved hand. Your thoughts were elsewhere, on the paperwork you still had to file, for the investigation into a recent assassination of the recently elected president of Kurjikstan. And your heels dug into the side of your foot. And oh god, Brian was talking about his trip to Mykonos again. If you really had to listen to him talk about Greek girls again (maybe you could talk to HR, cite him for inappropriate behavior and sexual harassment) you were going to go insane.

“-And did I tell you about the hydrofoil expedition? I mean even the omnic serving girls-” He whistles, taking a sip of his champagne. 

“I’m gonna run to the restroom.” You butt in, downing the rest of your champagne and whirling around, leaving before anyone could get a word in. 

It happened in a blur, there had been an outburst at one of the nearby serving tables, a woman with a thick russian accent getting all too into a bad impression of Reinhardt Lindholm, knocking into a serving boy, who fell into you. The surrounding guests’ attention was suddenly all on the two of you on the floor, and you found yourself loving this masquerade just for the fact that it gave you a mask to hide the bright blush that was surely coloring your cheeks. 

“I’m so sorry, ma’am-”

“I’m alright-”

“Are you sure, I’m so so sorry, we can reimburse you-” You picked up a couple of the spilled flutes, one had shattered. “Oh please don’t worry over it-”.

“I’m sure, I-” There was chuckling, some hushed whispers and snickering.

“At least let me get you something to clean yourself up-” The young man continued asking if there was anything he could do or if you were sure you were okay. You laughed, reassuring him that ‘yes, you were okay’ and ‘no, nothing spilled on your dress.’

A man in a dark burgundy velvet suit reached down to lend you a hand up. You gratefully took it, careful not to give anyone an eyeful (the thigh slit of your dress came up dangerously high) as you climbed to your feet. 

“Thanks,” You laughed again, looking over your shoulder to check on the server, who’d just risen to his feet. The woman was clearly embarrassed, fussing over the poor boy. 

“That was a really bad impression of Reinhardt” The man chuckled, letting go of your hand, allowing it to fall at your side.

“I wasn’t going to say anything,” you paused, and the man watched you for a moment, “but that was really bad wasn’t it?” You found yourself laughing again.

The band quieted, and the chime of a champagne flute played over the speakers. The crowd slowly silenced, attention diverting to the stage. Your new companion turned and you followed his gaze to a man you recognized as the United Nations director of public affairs standing before the room.

He went into a speech that you struggled to focus on, your attention fixing instead on the man standing next to you. His mask was beautiful, a heart-shaped, bone-white ceramic mask with gold paint details around the edges and inky onyx holes for the eyes. A barn owl, you realized. His dark hair was shaved close to his skull, you could see it starting to turn silvery around his temples. The suit he wore was obviously expensive, a rich dark red crushed velvet, and black satin lapels. (Vaguely you wondered if he was hot, the room was packed and velvet is a hot material, and wow he’s hot.) The man was more than attractive, even if his face was hidden behind that haunting mask.

He must have sensed your stare, turning to look down at you. 

The director stopped speaking, and the guests around you applauded, you ripped your gaze from the black eye holes, clapping alongside them despite having ignored the entire speech. The guests began moving, pairing up or retreating to the edges of the wall. Confused, you whipped your head around. The man cleared his throat and you turned back to him. He offered you a hand, and you faltered.

“Can I ask for a clumsy woman to dance with me?”

“The Reinhardt enthusiast looks taken.” You bit back drily, nodding your head in her direction. He chuckled, and you found yourself loving the sound of it. Something tugged at your gut, a feeling that you were missing something. You pushed it away. “But I promise I have two left feet too.” You slipped your hand into his, and he pulled you a little bit closer, a large hand resting easily on your hip. Your other hand slid atop his shoulder. The floor cleared, and the music began. 

It wasn’t too fast, you could keep up with his movements even in your shiny silver heels. You hadn’t danced in forever. There had been the one mission with Overwatch, at a party held by Omnitech, maybe a year after the end of the Omnic Crisis. But you had only learned a couple of dances for that. You remembered Gabriel’s frustration with your inability to follow along as you’d been training with him for the party. (You think his exact words had been: “you can beat nearly everyone in this room in hand to hand, and you rival Amari in sharpshooting when given a rifle, but you can’t follow along in a waltz?”) You shook the thought from your head, missing a step and nearly stumbling, but your partner caught you. You breathed an apology, suddenly aware of the man’s closeness. Your heart thudded in your chest, heat rising to your cheeks again. 

“Don’t apologize, you’re doing fine.” He squeezed your hand. Your eyes dropped to the floor, trying desperately to watch your footing. The last thing you wanted to do right now was to step on- “Hey, eyes up. Watching your feet isn’t going to keep them from stepping on me.” You kept quiet, your eyes moving instead to his hand. There was a scar crossing up from his right palm. “Just follow along with me, you don’t need to lead this.” His hand was warm on your side, you could feel it through the thin black satin dress. It sent a shiver up your spine.

“I used to drive my best friend nuts trying to lead him while we’d dance.” You mumbled. He huffed, amused. His grasp on your hip pulled you into a turn, you tried to follow with him. Your eyes fell back to where your hands were clasped, the scar coming over to the top of his hand. 

“I’m a good dancer, if you wanted-.” That feeling nagged at you, there was something right in front of your face. “-I could give you some practice somewhere with _less_ people.” You choked, eyes flying up to his mask and away from the scar, surprised for a moment. Had he just offered…? He winced, “unless that was too forward-”. Your mouth hung open for a heartbeat too long before you caught yourself.

“No!” You swallowed, quickly surveying to see if anyone paid mind to your outburst. “No, it wasn’t, I was just a little surprised, I… I would like that.” His shoulders relaxed, that sinfully heavy hand on your hip rubbing a circle into the satin. You found yourself getting closer to his body, reveling in the way you heard his breath hitch.

“I’m glad to hear it.” His voice was huskier, and a heat grew between your legs. His hand squeezed yours again, your attention once again diverted to the scar. 

Where had you seen it? 

You felt your gut drop with the realization, all color leaving your face. 

_The eighth floor of an apartment building in Oslo, facing the city center. The rest of the squad had been fighting on the ground while you provided sniper cover from above. It had primarily been B73’s, and a couple of the newer E54’s. B73’s were easy, you must have taken hundreds down during the Crisis. It was the upgraded E54’s with their gatling guns that were challenging._

_You peered down the scope of your rifle, spotting Rein charge and pin two of the omnics, destroying them as he rammed into the side of the bank across the plaza, sending rubble and glass flying. Your attention shifted to Strike Commander Morrison and Torb, positioned at the dockside and ensuring the last civilian evac ship got off safely. They were making quick work of the smaller omnics as Amari picked off some of the bots coming up on Reinhart from her perch in the skywalk. Reyes was a couple floors down, cleaning up a group of omnic slicers._

_It was foggy, the sky hung low over the city, seeming to muffle the gunfire and small explosions. Despite the chaos, the fight felt subdued and quiet. It was unsettling. Your earpiece crackled to life, a frantic voice rushing through the speakers._

_“Ground team, we have reports of what seems to be a titan-class omnic surfacing in the bay directly south of you.”_

__Fuck._ _

_You whipped around from the window, holding your rifle close to your chest and running back through the apartment, out to the hall and to the stairs to climb to the roof, three floors up._

_“Watcher, I’m tied up, get eyes on the titan.” Amari’s voice cut in._

_“Already on it!” You replied, throwing the door to the roof access open and sprinting to the edge of the roof._

_The titan, while a smaller model, was immense. It had just broken the surface of the water, waves crashing around it as it lumbered towards the city. Its wake slammed into the surrounding shores and docks. The titan rose to its full height, the bay up to its hips, and yet easily towering ten stories above that point. Water poured from its barnacled armor. Its torso was a squat shape, its head set into its body, rather than upon a neck. The shape of it reminded you almost of an old movie character you’d seen as a kid, a one-eyed green monster, named Matt maybe? Mark? Mark Wachowski? In place of a left hand was what looked to be a plasma torch(still unlit, thank everything good in this world), it’s right hand was a massive claw._

_“It’s headed our way, 3 klicks out. Torb, if I’m identifying this thing right, it looks to be a Shipbreaker Titan.”_

_“Makes sense, but it doesn’t make our job any easier!” He growled, and you could hear the scowl on his face._

_“When is our job ever easy?” Reyes’ voice had a sarcastic lilt to it. “Watcher, I’m coming up to your position, gonna try to get close as possible to its head.”_

_“Got it, I advise all units to push back from the waterfront or gain some higher ground.” You took a shot at a siege automaton that was coming up on Morrison and Torb, stopping it in its tracks with a well placed bullet to its processor._

_“Affirmative, the last ship just took off. Evac will be complete when they get out of the bay. First priority is making sure that ship escapes. Second is preventing the city from being leveled.” Morrison grunted, as you watched the two men on the ground retreat to cover with Reinhardt._

_The titan had reached the waterfront pier, its wake spilling up into the plaza in a surge and washing over the bricked ground. There were footsteps behind you._

_“What’s cookin’, good lookin’?” Reyes’ voice came from above where you had perched yourself. You could hear the smile on his face._

_“Nothing much, honey bunch.” You grinned, leaving the scope of your rifle to squint up at him. He smiled, dropping down to the balls of his feet to crouch besides you, his dark eyes flicking up to the Shipbreaker._

_“Who’s your new friend?”_

_“Just some guy I met while partying in Norway.” You said, a cheeky lilt to your words. He chuckled._

_“Should I be jealous?”_

_“What the hell are you two doing over there?” Amari’s voice crackled in over the comms, annoyance dripping from her words. Reyes made a face and you had to bite back a laugh, focusing back on the titan that had decided to climb up out of the water._

_It fisted its claw hand, and it must have decided the best way to lay waste to the city was to simply start punching. It slammed into the apartments across the square. A cloud of dust billowed up as it demolished half the building in one go. Rubble crashed to the ground, shattering as the titan struggled to yank its arm free._

_“If I can get in there I can start wrecking some stuff.” Reyes gestured up at the beast’s flat head, where you remembered Torb saying something about an emergency evac door, from when the titans had been massive mechs._

_“We’ll get its attention then!” Reinhardt’s gravelly voice roared, and down below, his shield lit up blue. Turret fire erupted, sending a spray of bullets at the titan, who had finally pulled its arm free, showering the courtyard with concrete and broken glass. Morrison had climbed out from behind the shield, up onto a pile of rubble and fired helix rockets, all three hitting the titan square in its red eye._

_Mike. Mike was the name of the monster from the movie._

_The Shipbreaker, Mike, you decided its name was, turned to look down at its attackers. Mike drew its arm up to strike down on them. You pulled the trigger, striking its eye where Morrison had earlier. Mike faltered, its claw going instead to cover its eye. The plasma torch hand made a snapping noise, and instinctively you clenched your eyes shut, looking away._

_The torch was hot enough to feel from this distance. There was a rush of air, and Mike swiped the torch through the building._

_Everything happened too fast. There was a deep groaning and snapping sound that shook your bones. The ground beneath your feet lurched. Your stomach dropped, and your rifle was ripped from your grasp with sudden force. And you fell._

_There was a grip around your left wrist. Your arm was torn from its socket with a sickening pop. But you weren’t falling. A whimper forced its way from your lips on its own volition. Your wrist was being pulled up, and you managed to drop your head back to look up at your hand, where Reyes had grabbed on with both hands and held for your life._

_You couldn’t breathe, could only stare up at the man as he grasped on to you. He pulled, and you could only dangle there, all air gone from your lungs. Your shoulder was a white hot searing pain, radiating out to the rest of your body in an unrelenting wave. He was straining, his calloused hands holding with everything he had as he pulled you further, until you could almost reach up and grab the ledge with your free hand._

_His foot slipped. There was a lurch. One of his hands let go, grasping the broken glass railing. It slid, a line of scarlet blooming across his palm and pouring down the glass. He grunted some curse, lunging forward with his bloodied hand and finally yanking you back up over the edge of the roof as he fell backwards, pulling you with him._

_You fell atop him, your body screaming with pain, but you rolled over, laying there next to him, cradling your displaced arm over your heaving chest. You were silent, unable to do anything more than try to breathe. Reyes seemed to do the same, gasping for air. His unharmed hand held the gash. There was a buzzing in your ears. Your head felt faint. Reyes looked over to you, his lips moving as he asked you something. The words were a mumble, lost in a haze of pain and dust. You started to cry, hot, wet, and salty tears rolling down your dirtied face. Reyes shifted onto his side, reached over, his uninjured hand gently and slowly wiping away the tears. He said something again, his words muffled. You couldn’t pull your blurred gaze from his dark eyes. It was something important, whatever he was saying. You weren’t sure though, because you lost consciousness soon after._

_From what you’d heard in post mission reports and out of your teammates’ accounts, the dropship had picked you and the commander up from the roof. You were passed out from shock, and Reyes had carried you in. The cut on his hand had crossed his entire palm, wrapping up and over to the back of his hand. Mike had destroyed most of Aker Brygge, but Overwatch bombers finished the job as they took the Shipbreaker down. Oslo city center had been demolished. The final evacuation ship had managed to escape. Everyone had made it out with minimal injury. Reyes had passed out with exhaustion soon after the onboard medics had confirmed that you would be fine._

_His hand had scarred: a straight, pink line, maybe half a centimeter thick. Reyes had played it off, no big deal. ‘A small price to pay, in order to save his terrible dance partner’ had been his words. But his hand had scarred._

Your gaze whipped back up to the man, a million thoughts running through your head.

Your hand went limp in his, you stumbled again. The man slowed, and any words you had ready died in your mouth. 

“Gabe?” You breathed.

It was his turn to falter, his body immediately tensing. Your hands left his body, flying to where your mask sat on your cheekbones before you even had time to think about what you were doing. You ripped it from your face, eyes wide.

“It’s me.” Your voice was shaky. You think if he became any tenser he might snap. He mirrored your actions, tearing away his own mask.

His face was the same, but age was starting to catch up with him. There were new lines between his eyebrows, from where he pulled them down into his serious expression. A new set of scars stretched over his right cheekbone, and the bags under his dark brown eyes were deeper and darker than you’d ever seen them. He looked worn out, but the smile that was pulling at the corners of his mouth was bright as the sun.

“Gabriel Reyes, what the hell?” You couldn’t stop the grin from splitting your face in two, your heart in your throat as you launched yourself at the man, pulling yourself into his chest and just laughing. He wrapped himself around you, digging his face into your hair and likely ruining the shitty updo you’d attempted. You didn't mind. 

A couple of dancers bumped into you, pushing you further into him and causing him to bump his chin into your head.

“Ow, fuck.” He grumbled, one of his arms unwrapping from around you and going up to gingerly massage his bearded chin. Your head hurt too, but you could only laugh, pulling yourself away and escorting him off the dance floor.

“I wasn’t sure if I’d ever see you in person again!” You weren’t sure if the smile on your face would ever leave as you took him in, hands still resting gently on his forearms. “I get to see you on the news, but that’s not the same. And not nearly as flattering, they make you look so old!” He gave you a fake admonished look, his hands sliding up to hold yours. 

“I don’t look old.” He muttered, the corner of his lip twitching up in a crooked smile. 

“You look- you look great.” You forced your smile into a pretend frown, drawing your eyebrows together as you looked him up and down. The sparkle in his eyes made you break out in another smile, unable to hold it in. You fidgeted with your mask in your hands before finally placing it onto the table next to you. You’d just have to try to remember to get it later.

“You do too.” His voice was unexpectedly soft. And then he paled, going tense. Your stomach dropped faster than the expression on your face. “I’m sorry! About asking you if you wanted to…”

Confusion gripped you, and you squeezed his hands.

“I don’t want to make you uncomfortable, I didn’t know-.”

Oh. _Oh. Oh that._

You snorted, and the worry on his face shifted to concern. Letting go of his hands, you patted him playfully on the chest, trying to ignore the sudden heat that exploded in your cheeks. And elsewhere. 

“No harm done. I woulda done the same thing.” He visibly relaxed, his tight shoulders dropping with relief. And then tensing again as you both realized your words. “I mean- you know.” You looked away, biting your lip as a semi-awkward silence took over.

“So…”

“So…” You stuttered, desperately trying to come up with something new to talk about. “You do this often?” His brown eyes shot back to your face, a look of unsurety crossing it once more. “Come to big fancy galas? Pick up awkward girls in both the literal and figurative sense?” 

Reyes chuckled, seeming to finally relax once more. The sound was nice. You missed it.

“Our buddy Morrison made me.”

“Come to the gala or pick up girls?” You teased, trying to ignore that weird feeling that came with the idea of him going home with someone. He rolled his eyes, an easygoing smirk on his face. “How’s work going? Keeping busy over there at Overwatch? I heard you were at that explosion in Rome. I’m probably not allowed to ask, but what happened?”

You didn’t expect the darkening of his eyes. A twinge that something was wrong twisted in your gut.

“I don’t wanna talk about my work.” He grumbled, but noticed the concern on your face and cleared his throat. “How about you? Left a life of excitement with Overwatch and came to the UN? You always hated paper pushing.”

You forced away the feeling, a shaky smile returning to your face. 

“Rather not talk about work.” Reyes nodded in agreement before clearing his throat and gesturing around the room.

“So why a masquerade?”

You huffed, rolling your eyes. 

“It’s supposed to symbolize how ‘everyone played a part in defeating the omnic threat’.” You imitated the clipped tone of the woman who had given you the invitation during work. “Because apparently action movie hero Brett Alexander did just as much as you.” You elbowed him gently, gesturing to the blond actor across the room. Reyes scoffed, mirroring your earlier sentiment and rolling his eyes in agreement.

“God, didn’t he just recently play Jack in that movie about the South African omnic crisis?” You snorted.

“I heard about that. Apparently he gets together with Angela.” Reyes groaned.

“Dear god.”

“Yeah, but he did a lot to help out during the crisis.” You feigned earnesty, peering up at your former commander, your eyes wide. It was Reyes’ turn to laugh, and the sound was infectious, cracking the innocent facade plastered on your face. His dark eyes landed softly on your face, warm and full as he watched you laugh.

“There y’are, Reyes! Y’left me all on my lonesome, I’ve been fightin’ off some mighty uncomfy questions all night.”

A boy, who honestly couldn’t have been more than twenty, sauntered up to Reyes. His plain, but nice, suit fit him well, but there was something in his manner that said he was anything but comfortable in the expensive clothes. The boy’s medium length brown hair was parted down the middle, but had clearly been tousled, falling down the sides of his face. He wore a simple black mask that reminded you of a bandit from some hundred-year-old spaghetti western. 

Reyes’ gaze flicked over to the boy, the softness leaving his eyes, replaced with a look that reminded you of an exasperated father.

“Jesse. We talked about the boots.”

Your eyes dropped to Jesse’s feet, which had been clad in a well-worn, dusty pair of brown cowboy boots. You chuckled.

“Nice kicks.”

“Thank you much, darlin’.” He winked at you, and held his hand up to shake. You obliged him. “Reyes, ‘s bad manners t’not introduce yer beautiful friend here.” 

You smirked up at the man next to you. Reyes grumbled something under his breath before finally giving your first name. 

“We met back during the Omnic Crisis. Served together on the original Overwatch squad. We were close friends.” There was a twinge in your gut that you tactfully decided to push away and ignore.

“Name’s Jesse. ‘S mighty fine to make yer acquaintance. We should get drinks after this. Make a little bit more’n acquaintances. If I could snag ya from dear old Reyes that is.” He confidently drawled, his brown eyes dragging down, and then back up your body. Your cheeks flushed, and Reyes bristled next to you.

“Jesse, time for you to go find somewhere else to be.” The cowboy shrugged, flashing a bright white grin at you and giving you a lazy, two fingered salute. You chuckled.

“It was nice meeting you, Jesse.” 

“Some other time darlin’.” He sauntered away, off to go find someone else to attempt to swoon, you figured.

Reyes scoffed, crossing his broad arms tight across his chest as he watched the boy retreat through narrowed eyes and scrunched eyebrows. A smirk pulled at the corner of your mouth.

“Jealous?” You teased, tone light and easy. He didn’t look down at you as you turned to stand in front of him, patting his chest playfully. Reyes scoffed, still avoiding your eyes. “You shouldn’t be, I could be getting better acquainted with him, and I chose to be right here with you.”

“I don’t have anything to be jealous of.”

The man finally met your eyes, a strange look on his handsome face. You found yourself flushing again, but steeled yourself, holding his gaze for just a few more seconds. You weren’t quite sure what it was. Annoyance maybe? There was a heat to it that thickened the air around you. Your breath caught in your throat, and suddenly realizing your closeness, you tore your eyes away, licking your lips as you backed off to stand at his side again.

_I don’t have anything to be jealous of._

What did that mean? Was he gently putting you in your place? Telling you that he didn’t and would never see you in _that_ way? You’d been joking. Why did he sound so serious? Your mouth was dry. Maybe he was subtly letting you know he knew what you were thinking. That you were probably more interested in him than you should be. It was just a dumb joke. You were joking. That’s all there was to-.

“I’ve never been a huge fan of champagne. Do you want to ditch this thing and grab some real drinks?” His voice was close, he’d leaned down to mumble it into your ear, his lips all too close to you.

“Yes!” You replied with too much enthusiasm, but you were anxious to remove yourself from this situation. He laughed, snaking his arm around your waist and escorting you through the throngs of people. You tried to ignore the warmth of his hand on your hip, and push away the wish that he’d drop it a little lower.

The entrance to the ballroom was packed, throngs of people crowding the space and making it near impossible to get through.

“Let’s take a different door.” You looked up to your companion. He nodded, spinning around and scanning the walls for another exit.

You spotted it before he did, and pointed to the door hidden behind the buffet table.

The door opened into a dark hallway, and shut behind you with a soft click. The sounds in the ballroom were muffled. Reyes let go of you, and you found a part of you missing the contact. It took a moment for your eyes to adjust to the low lighting. 

“I think the main hallway is this way.” Reyes’ deep voice seemed much louder now that the cacophony of the ballroom had quieted. You followed after him, your heels clicking on the marble floor. 

“I’m glad you came tonight, Reyes.” 

It was quiet for a beat, save for the sounds of your footsteps and the whisking of your skirt.

“Me too.”

Your heart pounded in your chest.

“Hey, I wanted to-.” He started, and he must have stopped to turn around and look at you because you found yourself crashing into him. He stumbled, grabbing onto your arms, and pulling you with him. You landed on his chest in a clumsy tangle of limbs. 

“Oof, shit I’m sorry!” You started to push yourself up and off of him but faltered. He was quiet beneath you.

You could feel his breath on your lips, and the pounding of his heartbeat through his suit. And a hardening between his legs. You froze, your mouth fell open, like some moronic fish, as your brain tried desperately to process what was happening. 

“I am so sorry-.” He started, his voice hoarse. 

You lowered yourself back down to his face, stopping him dead in his tracks. 

“Can I kiss you?”

The sound that left his throat was a weak and keening whine. You’d never heard anything like it from him, a heat exploding between your legs. Before thinking it through, you took it as a yes, crashing into his lips with yours. Your teeth clicked together uncomfortably and you giggled into the kiss. The man beneath you groaned, his hands flying up to your hips. He opened the kiss, and you mirrored his action, allowing his tongue entrance. Your hands rested on his chest, fisting the fine fabric of his tux. His goatee was scratchy on your face. You drew your legs up to his sides, giving you a better angle to grind against him. It was your turn to moan as his hands slid down to hold your ass, groping and squeezing.

You broke away for air, gasping as his hands explored your body.

“Is this okay?” He whispered, a twinge of concern evident in his voice.

“God, yes.” Reyes kissed you again, harder this time, drawing you back in. The arousal between your legs was unbearable. He captured your lower lip between his teeth, and you couldn’t help the groan that ripped itself from you. His cock was hard, you could feel it against your inner thigh. You ground down against him again, and he pulled away, a raggedy breath escaping his lips.

”Let’s skip the drinks.” He murmured, his lips finding your neck.

“I’m staying here for the night. Come up to my room.” You grinned, clenching your eyes shut and biting back another moan as his teeth nipped the tender skin above your clavicle.

“I’d like nothing more.” He breathed. “Except maybe fucking you into the floor right here.” That was hot. And tempting. The image of your fancy bed came to mind, and the idea of him fucking you into the plush blankets and soft sheets. You had to peel yourself from him, attempting to ignore the pained whine he produced as you removed yourself, climbing to your feet and offering him a hand up. He sat up, gently grasping your wrist. His head turned, maintaining eye contact as he softly pressed a kiss to your palm. You almost short circuited. Reyes flashed a devilish smile, pulling himself up and all too close to you. 

He pressed another not-so-innocent kiss to your lips, and you were tempted to tell him to forget your room. Reyes pulled away though, his hand trailing down your bare back, goosebumps following his path. His large, calloused hand squeezed your ass, and pulled away. A giggle escaped your lips.

“Let’s go.”

…

The trip to your room passed in a blur of stolen kisses and wandering hands, and before you knew it you were turning down the hallway to your room. 

“UN perks, huh? Overwatch never put us in such fancy places.” You spun around to face him, swinging your arms and giving him a big grin.

“Wait ‘til you see the bed.” You winked, and his expression darkened. He lunged towards you, enveloping your form in his strong arms and kissing you hard. You fell back against your door, fumbling with the key card before finally unlocking the door and stumbling inside. 

He broke apart from you with a gasp, shutting the door hurriedly and moving towards you. You smirked, retreating further into the lavish room. A wolfish grin revealed his white teeth as he followed you hungrily. 

“Don’t keep me waiting.” His voice was a low growl as he stalked closer. Goosebumps rose along your arms and exposed back.

“Then help me out of this thing.” You purred, biting your lip and turning your back to him. 

His hands landed on your sides, pulling you closer to his front. His breath was hot as it hit the back of your neck, causing an involuntary shiver to wrack your body. You could feel his arousal against your ass, and had to bite your lip to keep from releasing a gasp. Reyes’ hands finally found their way to the zipper of the dress, and they took their time unzipping you, as though you were some delicate present. Feeling rather impatient, you reached behind, brushing your fingers along his clothed length. 

He faltered at that, his breath quickening into a shaky rhythm, but he dutifully finished his job. You palmed him again, with more intention this time. He must have been above average, and you became wetter at the thought of _that_ inside of you.

You turned around, catching his lips with your own in a dizzying kiss. Big hands landed back on your sides, running up to the straps of the dress and pulling them off of your shoulders, allowing the satin to fall and pool at your feet. He pulled away to get a good look at you, and you found yourself flushing bright red with the appreciative look in his eyes. 

You hadn’t worn a bra tonight, but your panties were a simple red thong. You hadn’t expected to spend the night with anyone, but you’d be damned if you hadn’t been prepared to.

“God _damn_.” He finally spoke, his dark eyes unable to look away. You grinned, kicking off your heels.

“Your turn.” A devious smile erupted on his features as you took a step towards him, your hands sliding up his lapels. You pushed him until the backs of his knees hit the bed, and he sat down, that smile stretching wider, causing your heart to pound in your chest. Ignoring the butterflies in your stomach, you straddled his muscular thighs, your hands going to work on his tie as your lips found his once more. It was addictive, kissing him. A part of you wished you’d done it sooner, rather than starving yourself all those years, of this.

He groaned as you moved your hips against his, his hands coming up to help you with his tie, loosening it just enough to pull it over his head and toss across the room. The expensive jacket went next, and then the black button up beneath it.

His chest was beautiful. There was dark hair over his pecs, leading to a trail of hair down the middle, and thickening again just above his pelvis. Your hands roamed his body, running over his defined chest and abs. He wasn’t built like a movie star, but like a man who had lived a hard life of combat. There was a scar stretching up his side, maybe five inches long. A bullet scar above his clavicle. Burn scars on his right bicep. He watched you carefully, having slowed down for a moment. You made a note to look at the scars later. 

“Is this still okay?” The words startled you, and you flinched, eyes flying up to look at his. His pupils nearly drowned out the dark irises with desire. 

“I’m enjoying this if you are.” You mumbled, watching the way his tongue swiped across his lips as he nodded, but your attention had shifted downwards. 

Carefully, your lips connected with his neck. His hands stilled where they had been palming your chest, head rolling back to allow you better access. You trailed down, occasionally biting and licking, reveling in the sounds he made for you. You climbed off of him, settling down between his legs, his half lidded eyes took you in as you rubbed up and down his beautifully muscular thighs, before finally going to the waistband of his dress pants. You fumbled with the button for an embarrassing second, but he gave a good-natured laugh, and you relaxed, unzipping his pants. He helped you to pull them down, revealing his dick straining against his underwear. You angled your head, kissing the inside of his thigh as you stroked it through its constraints. Reyes gasped above you, his muscles tightening beneath your wet lips. You switched thighs, nearing his torturously hard cock. 

“Don’t keep me waiting.” He murmured, his scarred hand coming up to stroke the side of your face. You decided he had been waiting long enough, and pulled the waistband down, allowing his arousal to spring free. You couldn’t take your eyes off of it as you pulled his briefs the rest of the way down. 

“You’re beautiful.” You spoke, finally looking up at him and relishing the color that rose in his cheeks, visible even in the dark room.

He was big. Not ridiculously long, but definitely girthy. You rubbed your thighs together in a desperate attempt to ease your arousal, before finally taking his dick into your hand, barely able to wrap your fingers around his width. Watching the expression on his face, you licked a stripe up the base. His lower lip caught between his teeth in a groan. Warmth rose to your cheeks as you took his head in your mouth, running your tongue in a circle around the engorged tip. He tasted salty and bitter, and you fucking loved it. The hand holding your face came up to rest on your head, gently, without any force or demands. You took as much of his length into your mouth as you could, which admittedly, wasn’t a lot, but a moan tore itself from his throat as you started to bob your head on his dick, your hand twisting and pumping in time. 

“Oh my god…” He breathed, his hips barely moving with you. You slid your free hand up to rest on his thigh, holding him steady. Your jaw was already aching, but you persisted, running your tongue back and forth as you bobbed up and down. He swore, something you couldn’t quite catch. You came up for air, releasing his head with a pop, and his hand cradled your face. Rotating your head in his hold, you pressed a kiss to his palm, the hand on his thigh holding his hand there. He couldn’t pull his eyes away from you as your hand pumped his length. “God you’re so sexy.” He whispered, wincing with pleasure as you squeezed him a little tighter, an impish smile gracing your messy lips.

You pulled away from him, your mouth closing around his cock again and getting back to work. His muscles were getting tense, he was getting close to the edge. Your hand found its way to his balls, gently cupping them and squeezing. His eyes clenched shut, his white teeth gritting with effort.

Pride welled up in you, and you closed your eyes, fighting back the tears pricking your eyes as you got as much of his length in your mouth as possible. The hand on your head tangled in your hair, finishing off the remnants of the terrible updo you’d attempted earlier that night. His breaths were shallow and uneven. There was a choked groan, and bitter spurts of cum exploded into your mouth and down your throat.

You waited for him to finish, lungs burning and tears welling up in your eyes. His hand untangled from your hair, going back to stroking your cheek. You let go of him, coming off of his dick and swallowing his release. He was panting above you as you cleaned him off with your tongue. 

You flashed him a cheeky grin, falling back to sit on your heels.

“God damn.” His voice was hoarse, and he leaned forward, catching your lips on his. Big hands cupped your jaw, pulling you back up onto your knees and closer to him. They drifted down your sides, to your ass, where he lifted you up to straddle him again, before standing up off of the bed and flipping around, dropping your back into the billowy blankets. “You’re gonna have to give me a second, it’s been a while.” He murmured into your skin, his wet, hot, lips buzzing into your temple as his hands explored. You arched your back, breath catching as a hand found its way to your breast, squeezing and groping at the tender flesh. His mouth came down to close around the other nipple, and a moan wrenched itself free from your lips.

The wet between your legs was unbearable to the point of pain. It ached hot and torturous, begging to be filled. His hand ghosted down your abs, chuckling as you flinched away with a gasping giggle. You were too ticklish for that. So he continued downwards, until his fingers passed your aching arousal, stroking instead at the sensitive skin of your upper thighs. His thumb came dangerously close to brushing against your soaked folds, and you growled in frustration. He bit at your nipple, causing you to jump in pleasure, his thumb finally brushing against your heat. It wasn’t enough. You arched up, hoping to get some purchase, any purchase, but he drew back, releasing your breast from his sinful mouth. 

“What do you think you’re doing?” His voice was a deep growl, and you moaned again, arching into his touch. His hand left the crux of your thighs. “I want you to be patient.” A horrible grin spread across his face, and you had to fight to keep from repeating your mistake again, biting down on your bottom lip, tears filling your eyes.

He didn’t return to your breasts, instead choosing to watch with great interest and pleasure as his hand went back to your arousal, brushing his knuckles up and down your thighs.

“Please!” You moaned, clenching your eyes shut and fisting your hands into the blankets.

“Look at me.” He ordered, and you tore your eyes open, tears falling as you could see the flush of his cheeks. His hand left your thigh for the fraction of a second, and crushing agony fell upon you, until his touch returned as a single digit ran from the length of your folds up to your clit. You shook, biting back a whine as he repeated the motion. His free hand came up to hold your face again, and you sobbed as he plunged his middle finger into your dripping cunt. He groaned, his voice breathy when he managed his words.

“You’re soaked.” He pumped it once, twice, curling it around in your tight pussy before adding another finger. “All this, for me?”

You whined, forgetting his rule and arching up into his touch. He didn’t seem to mind, or maybe he’d forgotten it entirely, all too enraptured in your tight warmth. The fingers bent in a “come hither” motion, the same one you used when masturbating on your own, and you had to fight back another pitchy moan as his thumb joined in, rubbing tight circles around your clit.

“Oh fuck, Reyes, I’m gonna-!” Your voice left you as you came, eyes clenching shut as white hot pleasure exploded behind your eyes. The fingers slid free, leaving you feeling empty. You opened your eyes to look back up at him as he sucked a finger clean. A giggle shook your chest, and after a moment, he laughed too. “That was good.” You breathed, watching him through half-shut eyes. 

“Are you up for more?” He asked, the tone of his voice hopeful, but assuring that he was leaving it up to you.

“God yeah, please.” 

“Good.” He leaned down over you, stealing a kiss as he positioned himself between your legs, swinging one leg up and over his shoulder. Your breathing hitched. “Are you on birth control?” You nodded.

The engorged head of his cock pressed against your folds, and you gasped into the kiss, breaking away for a moment to use your hand to guide him. He inserted himself slowly, bottoming out with a sigh of your name. 

You met his motions as he pulled out, thrusting back in and out at a moderate pace. Your leg fell from his shoulder, and instead wrapped around his waist.

His teeth closed around a patch of skin high up on your neck, grunting as his pace increased. 

“God, Reyes, don’t stop.” The words were punctuated by his thrusts, his width filling you so wholly. You felt like you fit to him perfectly, that nobody else would ever match this. You never wanted to let him go. 

The thought scared you. 

He pinned your wrists above your head, his eyes staring down into yours as he thrusted. They explored your body, watched the way your breasts bounced with each time he entered you. Lingered on a bullet-wound scar between your left ribs. Flashed back up to your eyes as you whined.

“We’re still just friends, right?” You groaned as he slammed into you, shaking the bed with his force. He clenched his dark eyes shut, biting his lip as he nodded, shaking with the effort. You tried not to dwell on the strange wave of disappointment that came with his agreement, focusing instead on chasing your completion. 

He finished first, but you came soon after. His hot cum pumped deep into your cunt. It wasn’t as sweet a finish as you’d hoped, but you pushed the thought away. Reyes rolled off of you, and made his way to the bathroom. There was a sinking feeling in your gut that you’d just fucked up. You forced a smile onto your face at his return, cleaning himself off with a rag and grinning at you, brandishing another warm and damp rag for you to clean up with.

“Thanks.” You caught it, wiping yourself off.

“You wore me out. Is it cool if I crash here?” His words were casual. You nodded, attempting to exude a calmness you didn’t feel, as you gestured to the bed, climbing under the covers.

“It’s king size, what do I do with this much bed?”

He scoffed, rolling his eyes.

“I think we just demonstrated what to do with that much bed.” 

You laughed, but that sinking feeling didn’t go away. If Reyes noticed, he was gentle enough on your ego to let it go. He climbed into bed, his back to you. You mirrored the action, thankful to be so exhausted as you fell asleep quickly. 

…

Your feet were so cold. Reyes had stolen the blankets in his sleep.

Your heart raced in your chest. What on earth had you been thinking last night? What if this ruined your friendship? What if this was serious? _What if it wasn’t?_ For some reason, that hurt the most. You flipped onto your side, facing his back now. He was close enough that you could reach out… and just touch him. You could do that. It didn’t feel right. What had you done? You felt sick. Silently as you could, you rolled yourself to the edge of the bed, slipping out from under the covers and rising to your feet. 

There was another rustling. You froze dead in your tracks, not daring to even breathe. Reyes sighed. You took a deep breath, steadying yourself and peeking over your shoulder. He was still asleep, blissfully unaware of what you were going to do. 

You were dressed, packed, and halfway to Geneva before he woke.


	2. Lies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The lies add up.

“I’m not sure I understand.” The words came out slow and quiet as you drew your hands off of the table and into your lap, nervously picking at your fingernails. The director had cleared the room but a minute ago, leaving the two of you alone in the low-lit conference room. The words she had given you were fast and low, too quick for your mind to grasp their horrible meaning.

She sighed, rubbing her temple with a frail, yet perfectly manicured hand, the thin, glittering bracelet catching the light as it dropped down her arm. 

“Gabriel Reyes has been in command of a splinter group of Overwatch.” Your mouth was dry, your tongue felt too thick and clumsy to make any words. “Blackwatch. It was formed to carry out any…” she paused, “ _unpleasant_ operations that would not be considered legal or humane.” 

You winced as you pulled a hangnail a little too far, a spot of red blooming next to your nail bed. The director eyed you, flipping her short grey hair back. Her eyes were a pale blue, her pupils stood out against the washed out color.

“I understand you served together in the Omnic Crisis.”

Oh you’d done much more than that.

“Yes.” Your voice was hoarser than you had expected, and you cleared your throat, giving her a reluctant, but quick, nod.

“Then I understand if this job makes you uncomfortable. However, if you are not willing, I can find a replacement.” The director uncrossed her legs, leaning forward to activate the table’s computer. The glass tabletop lit up blue as information tabs popped up. She slid it over to your side. You eyed the profile, an omnic mercenary. “I cannot guarantee that it will be as peaceful. For everyone involved.”

Your blood went cold. There was a weight to her words. _I have no qualms about harming him._ You slid the tab back over the table.

“I need information on Blackwatch. Members. Missions. Bases. Finances. I want to know everyone they’ve talked to, worked for, and killed. I want to know what is happening in Rome. Everything.” She eyed the tab, resting her chin on her knuckles. “I’ll give you a day to decide, after-.”

“I’ll do it.”

The director nodded, pushing her short hair back again and straightening in her seat.

“I’m happy to hear it.” Her eyes fell back to the tablescreen, her thin hands selecting the file and sliding it across the table to you. “That’s everything we have. Download that to your datapad and look it over. I’ll have your tickets sent to you by tomorrow morning.”

“My tickets?” You took the moment to pull your datapad from your bag, setting it on the table and beginning the download.

“You’ll be running into him at an Overwatch press conference in Gibraltar, for the watchpoint opening.” She took a bored sip of her coffee, setting it down on the glass table top with a soft clink. “After all, the UN would love to show our unity with Overwatch. What better way than to send a former agent with our press team?”

There was a pause. Your knee bounced under the table.

“And from there?” You finally asked. She shrugged, an unconcerned frown on her face.

“I don’t care how you go from there. I’m giving you full reins, you wanna sneak in? Hack his terminal? Drug him? Go for it, so long as he doesn’t suspect you. Fuck it, seduce him for all I care, he’d probably fall for that again.”

Your blood froze in your veins. Her expression was cool, a glint in her pale eyes. The too-large and too-dark conference room was now too quiet for a heartbeat too long. Your knee stilled, a sweaty hand splayed on your thigh in a desperate attempt to get a grip.

“Just get us that data.”

Her stare held you a moment longer, before she nodded in a curt motion down to your datapad on the table. 

“Your download is finished. I’ll see you after your job is done.”

You took that as your cue to get the fuck out of there.

...

You took the flight to Gibraltar as an opportunity to look through the files.

Bribery. Extortion. Torture. Murder. They were packed to the brim with damning evidence against Reyes. 

You kept thinking of that gala a few weeks ago, of the way his tired face lit up when you cracked jokes. How his dark eyes had seemed so bright, or the faint crow’s feet at their corners had become more prominent with his smile. Or how his hands had rested so easily and lightly on your waist, tracing whimsical patterns into your skin. 

You shook the thought from your mind. It was impossible to reconcile Reyes with the man in the documents before you. 

And yet, it wasn’t. Reyes had a single-minded, driven intensity to him. He could be unforgiving and unrelenting. He was never afraid to do whatever it took to get a job done. You knew this, and understood it. It had been a worm in the back of your mind, whispering awful little thoughts into your head, that Reyes wouldn’t let something go. It would be his downfall one day. He would go too far. 

Your eyes fell heavy onto the file in your hands. _Gunnar Benediktsson, CEO of Icelandic drone company: OmniDróna, found dead in his Reykjavik penthouse. Official press release informed the public his death was due to chronic heart failure, however, Benediktsson had been bound, beaten, and hanged. OmniDróna had recently resumed production of controversial omnic-grade drones. After his death, Benediktsson’s successor, Katrin Einarsdottir, has permanently ceased omnic-grade drone production and proclaimed the newly named “Dróna Corp’s” support and official endorsement of Overwatch._ A grisly photo of what you presumed used to be Benediktsson showed his beaten and swollen body hanging like a doll from the loft in his penthouse living room. Your stomach felt like a rock, sitting heavy and uncomfortable in your gut.

Maybe he already had gone too far. 

You sighed, sliding the datapad back into your bag and letting your head fall back into the headrest, your eyes falling on the clouds below.

“What have you gotten yourself into?” You mumbled under your breath, and finally allowed a dreamless sleep to take you.

…

You spent the whole night in your hotel room worrying about the press conference. Worrying about seeing Reyes. After the gala, you’d snuck home to Geneva without even leaving a note. You’d panicked. It had been too much, too fast. 

Before you’d left Overwatch, and before the gala, the relationship you had with Reyes was always flirty and teasing. It was simple to never cross the line. There were clear cut guidelines and rules that you would never have crossed while under his command. You always knew exactly where you stood. Had you thought about sleeping with him? Of course. Had you thought about kissing him? More times than you would have liked. But it had never been an option as long as you worked for Overwatch.

And now, now that there were no rules, things became messy. You’d asked if you were still just friends, and he’d agreed. Why had you asked? Was it for stability? To know that even though a new element had been added to your relationship, you remained friends? What had you wanted him to say? You didn’t want to think about that. 

_Reyes probably hasn’t even thought about it._

The thought was just enough to quell some anxiety. 

A glance at the alarm clock next to your hotel bed read 1:57. You would have to get up in four hours. A ragged sigh escaped your chest, and you finally stopped pacing, sitting down at the edge of the bed. 

Were you really going to go through with this? 

You flopped backwards, digging the heels of your palms into your eyes. 

When exhaustion finally caught up to you, your sleep was not the dreamless rest it had been on the plane.

_You dreamt you were at the gala, but it was different. The other guests were silent, the only noise in the ballroom was the shuffling of feet and clothing, and their quiet breathing. It was oppressive, the weight of their eyes on you. You wore your blue Overwatch combat uniform, sticking out like a sore thumb in the sea of dark satins and fine fabrics. And then he was in front of you, masked, a gloved hand extended towards you._

_He seemed… not all there. Like the edges of his form blurred into the ballroom. If you looked directly at him you could sharpen his image, but the moment you looked away he seemed to fade. Your hand slipped into his on its own volition. He drew you close, until your bodies seemed to melt into one another. The scar that crossed over his palm, from when he’d caught you in Oslo, was missing. Your throat felt thick as you rested your head on his chest. You couldn’t hear his heartbeat._

_“You’re dressed for a fight.” His voice rumbled. “You won’t find one here.”_

_He spun you gently, his hands steadying, despite how unstable his physical form seemed. The other guests had left the ballroom, you were alone now. When had that happened?_

_You pulled away to get a look at his mask. His gentle hands did not stop you when you released them, or when they traveled upwards, to the chin of his mask._

_You lifted. You think you knew what you’d see before you saw it. The mask fell from your hands, the milky glass shattering on the floor. There was nothing behind the mask. No Gabriel Reyes. Just a void. Like someone had burned a hole in a photograph._

_His hand came up to your face, impossibly soft as it cupped your cheek._

_You closed your eyes._

_And woke atop the apartment roof in Oslo._

_The Shipbreaker turned towards you, it’s single huge eye focused on you. You froze in its red stare. The ground beneath your feet lurched. Your stomach dropped, and your rifle was ripped from your grasp with sudden force. And you fell._

_Nobody caught you this time. There was no grip around your wrist to keep you from falling. There was a dark form standing at the edge of the roof, watching as you plummeted towards the ground. It was him. He made no movement towards you._

You woke thrashing in your bed, hot and sticky tears plastering your hair to your face. You gasped for air, big shaky gulps as you tore yourself free from the tangled sheets and out of the bed.

You braced your body against the wall on your forearm, attempting to steady yourself. A glance over to the alarm clock showed 5:49. There was no point in going back to bed. Not that you could anyways, after a nightmare like that.

You’d once heard that dreams and nightmares couldn’t be decided by some simple symbolism chart. Snakes in a dream might mean lies to one person, but to a herpetologist, snakes might mean work or knowledge. Instead of looking at dream symbols as universal, think about how the dream had made you feel. 

Nothing in that nightmare felt good. 

You pushed off the wall, and prepared yourself for the press conference.

…

The conference was outdoors, on the orbital launch facility. The press sat facing the podium in rows of folding chairs. The sky was dark overhead, despite it being only 8 in the morning, clouds hung ominous and low over the rock. It wasn’t as packed as you had expected it to be, maybe only 20 or so reporters with their crews. All in all around 70 guests for the conference. Behind the podium, with his back to the water, was the man himself. Strike Commander Jack Morrison. You hadn’t seen him in person in a while. His temples were graying and there were new lines set hard in his face. A few other agents you vaguely recognized were with him, as well as a few you didn’t. And then there was Reyes. He stood off towards the edge, arms crossed and leaning up against the building. 

Your throat tightened at the sight of him. He wore a dark gray hoodie, big black combat boots, a scruffy beanie pulled down over his forehead. There was a sleek black armor vest over his sweatshirt. He looked so much different than he had at the gala a few weeks ago. The words he’d said to you in your dream the night before came to mind. 

_You’re dressed for a fight._

Morrison started speaking, and you tried desperately to pay attention, but your gaze kept pulling towards your former commander. Eventually, his speech ended, and the people around you clapped. You followed suit. Questions began rising from the press. You looked down at your datapad, opening the notes that the director had given you. A fat drop of rain splattered onto the datapad. You wiped it away.

She’d provided a list of questions that would insinuate the UN’s support of Overwatch. All mild and unimportant things to ask. But they would serve their purpose. Getting Reyes to know you were attending. 

You raised your hand, and when Morrison’s eyes fell on you, he smiled. It was a tense one. Another raindrop fell on your head.

“A familiar face.” He gestured towards you, and you stood, straightening out your blouse with a smile. Morrison introduced you to the small crowd. “One of our best former agents.”

“Thank you, Strike Commander.”

You tried to ignore the way Reyes’ head whipped over towards you, his gaze hot on your face. Before you could begin to ask your question, thunder boomed in the distance. The crowd began to murmur, a nervous energy rippling through the people. 

The sky opened up, and the slow shower turned into a downpour. People began standing, covering their heads with anything they had handy. You hesitated, and Morrison cut you off with an apologetic look.

“Why don’t we head into the conference room, and get out of this storm.” He gestured to the building Reyes had been leaned against, and the crowd began filing in. Several of the agents behind the podium began directing the press and attendees into the building. You were near the back of the group, rain soaking your hair and blouse. You fought to keep yourself from looking for Reyes. Thunder boomed, much closer now. 

The rest of the meeting passed in a blur. Before you knew it, people were standing and collecting their soggy items. Nobody seemed interested in milling about or socializing while soaked, and the room was almost emptied in the time you took stalling. You’d waved the UN press team on, told them you’d meet them the next morning at the airport. 

From the corner of your eye, a tall and dark-clad figure milled around the other agents. You briefly glanced up, seeing Reyes speaking to one of the new ones you hadn’t recognized. He didn’t see you, or was ignoring you. Every time you looked at him you were reminded of his imminent betrayal, by your own hand. It made you nauseous.

Someone cleared their throat. You snapped around in surprise, and came face to face with Morrison.

“I’m sorry, I was distracted, Commander Morrison, how are you doing?” You grinned, holding out a hand for him to shake. 

He mirrored the expression, the lines in his face melting as he took you in. His calloused hand grasped yours firmly and shook.

“I’ve been good, glad to see you’re doing well over in Geneva.”

“It’s been different than working with Overwatch.” You mused, and the smile on his face changed into a friendly expression. 

“Do you miss us? I’d take you back in a heartbeat.” You scowled playfully, shaking your head. 

“I’m too old for this job, Commander.”

“Tell that to Amari and Reinhardt.” He winked, and you chuckled. There was a lull in the conversation, and you found yourself uncomfortable. Morrison looked a little awkward too.

“How’s Vincent?” You finally asked, breaking the silence. He winced. You punched yourself mentally. 

“Vincent is alright.” His voice was clipped and too cheerful. He wrung his hands, and you noted the lack of a ring.

“That’s… nice.” You stammered, feeling your cheeks redden. 

“When’s the last time you saw Reyes?” The very mention of the man made your stomach roll. Morrison’s tone was forced, but not in a way that insinuated he knew exactly the last time you’d seen Reyes. _Had Reyes not told him?_

“I ran into him at the gala. Caught up for a few minutes, it was nice.”

Morrison looked a little taken aback.

“Huh. He hadn’t told me he saw you there.”

 _Ouch_.

“I must have been half paying attention.” He corrected himself hurriedly upon seeing the weird look on your face. His face flushed. Before you knew what he was doing, he called Reyes over, waving to the darkly dressed man. Gabriel looked over, a grin flashing on his face as he excused himself from his conversation and headed over. “Well I have work to do. It was nice seeing you.” Morrison shook your hand again, nodding to Reyes and slipping away before you could get a word in edgewise. 

Reyes grinned easily at you.

“Wasn’t expecting to see you so soon after the gala. Just can’t get enough of me, huh?”

You scoffed, a smile pulling on the corners of your lips.

“The UN wanted to publicly show their support of Overwatch. Sent me to do the job here.”

“You just tell yourself that.” The grin that was on his face was wolffish. You felt your cheeks heat, but rolled your eyes, nudging him teasingly and looking over his shoulder to Morrison’s retreating form.

“I think I totally fucked that conversation up.” You nodded to where Morrison had just slipped away. Reyes followed your eyes.

“How so?”

“Was super awkward and quiet so I asked about Vincent, because I remembered he loved talking about him and I think I saw that they were engaged, turns out they broke up and I just had to go and bring it up as small talk.”

He grimaced. “He’s been off lately.”

Your mind flicked to the Benediktsson case. 

_Apparently he’s not the only one who’s been off._

“Hey do you want to go grab some dinner and maybe relax at one of the fancy new suites here?” His voice was light and easy. If he was even a little upset about the gala you would have never known. You weren’t sure how it made you feel. 

“How about we skip the dinner part, and you just give me a tour of your ‘fancy new suite’.” You pushed away any weird feelings rumbling in your head and flashed him a devious smile.

“You’re always so direct.” He chuckled, a deep and dark sound. It sent a shiver that wasn’t entirely unwelcomed up your spine. “I like it.”

…

You followed him through the massive facilities, managing to stick mostly to indoor passages, but there were a couple of sprints through the storm between buildings. By the time you’d made it to his suite your white blouse was soaked (probably showing your bra through the now-translucent material), cheeks red from laughter, and hair stringy and wet. 

You could almost forget what you were doing here. You were just spending time with a friend. Goofing off like teenagers and distracting him from his work. 

After he’d closed the door behind you, you hadn’t even gotten a chance to look around the apartment before his lips were upon your neck.

They were scalding upon you, his scruffy goatee scratching into the tender skin of your neck. You couldn’t stop the gasp from escaping your lips. 

His hands rested heavy on your hips, pulling you backwards and into his body. 

“Is this okay?” He breathed, large hands travelling up from your hips and ghosting along your ribs.

“God, yes.” You got out, pushing away thoughts of ‘Blackwatch’, your hands holding his and bringing them up to your chest. “Lemme just get rid of my shoes.” You could feel his arousal pressing into you, he was already so hard. His hands cupped your breasts, gently, yet firmly, massaging you through the soaked material of your blouse. You kicked the shoes off, not paying attention to wherever they ended up.

“I’ve been thinking about this since the gala.” He groaned, his lips pressed up against your neck again. Reyes’ sharp, white teeth nipped at your throat. You whimpered, and could feel him smile into the hickey he was leaving. “Just wanna fuck you up against a wall and leave you begging for me.” One of his hands left your chest to slide downwards, to the waistband of your skirt. His voice was a low growl, you’d be lying if it didn’t get you even more turned on. 

Your hand snaked behind you, between your bodies and to his hard length. Reyes’ mouth left your neck, his head falling back, curses on his lips as you felt him through his pants. 

“What’s stopping you?” You murmured, gently pulling away from him just enough to spin around and face him.

His eyes were nearly black, his pupils dilated until they almost drowned out the brown of his irises. There was something dark in them. Something you hadn’t seen before. 

You closed the gap between your faces, hands flying to his sides to unclasp the chest armor he wore. As his lips pressed into yours, his hands helped you, and the armor clattered to the floor between your bodies. You toed it away as his hands immediately went to the buttons of your damp shirt. He opened the kiss, his tongue slipping into your mouth. You mirrored his action, moaning into the kiss as he peeled the wet blouse from your skin. It was rougher than last time, less careful and nervous. 

His calloused hands were hot against your clammy skin, leaving goosebumps in their wake. They ran down your bare sides, one sliding up your back to unclasp your bra, the other down your thigh. The simple bra you wore fell to the ground. Reyes was unrelenting, heaving your leg up around his waist and pushing your back into the wall. He pulled away from your lips for a moment, and you gasped for air, his actions hurried and intense. You’d been working on pulling his pants down, but he brushed your hands away, unzipping and pulling himself out without bothering to take off his pants. His length was engorged, hard and hot. 

Your skirt was flowy and just above the knee, which allowed him to simply push it up to your hips. The hand that wasn’t supporting your leg went to your panties, immediately finding your painfully soaked core and pushing the wet garment aside. Two thick fingers slid inside you without any resistance. Your head fell back against the wall, a choked breath ripping its way from your tightened throat. Reyes chuckled, a breathless and husky sound.

“God, how are you so _wet?_ ” He pumped twice, his fingers scissoring inside of you, before pulling the digits from your core. You whimpered at the loss. He held them up before your face, close enough to smell your own arousal. 

Slowly, torturously, he licked the slick from his fingers, his deep brown eyes never leaving your own. You were so wet it hurt. You would do anything to have him inside of you again, to fill you, to fuck you until you forgot your own name. 

He was impatient too. You wrapped your other leg around his waist, he pinned your weight to the wall, those black eyes falling to the intersection of your bodies. His free hand closed around his cock, lining himself up with your slit and pressing himself in. 

Your hands fisted in his hoodie, lips caught between your teeth as his girth stretched you.

“ _Fuck._ ” He gasped, his hands sliding under your ass in order to support your weight as he pulled back. A horrible sob wracked your chest. He plunged back in, a growled curse tearing from his lips. You felt so full. Had you ever felt like this with anyone else?

His fingernails dug into your skin, leaving crescent moon indents while he quickened the pace. You moved with him, wanting, _needing_ , to feel closer to his body. His thrusts were deep and fast, punctuated by his low breaths. He slammed into you particularly hard, and you slapped your hand across your lips, a muffled cry slipping out. His lips and teeth connected with your throat, just below your jawline. Somewhere in the back of your mind you knew it would leave an angry mark, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care about anything other than _him_ right now.

One of his hands released you, going instead to your clit, moving in tight circles around the nub. The noises you released turned into keening whines. He chuckled, his mouth still on your neck. Reyes came up for air, readjusting his hold on you and pulling back to watch your face as he quickened his movements. 

“Let me hear how I make you feel.”

Every muscle in your body was tended, taut under his lavishing. You felt so wound up, painfully so. You would do anything for this to end. Or never end. You couldn’t think straight. 

His eyes didn’t leave your face, even to blink. He seemed glued to you, unable to look away. You finally met his gaze, and it lit something in you. You bit your lip, tightening your grip on his shoulders. You couldn’t even breathe.

“Come for me.” He forced out, his thumb quickening its circles, and finally it snapped. You felt all the tension in your body release like a broken rubber band. Your vision went black for a few moments, or maybe you’d just clenched your eyes shut. You felt like you were floating, everything was so light and suddenly easy.

“Fuck-“ you moaned, head falling backwards against the wall and away from that burning stare. Reyes swore, and finally came with you. He held you there for a few moments longer, pumping his cum deep up into your sore cunt. You could feel him softening inside, and you stiffly unwrapped your legs from him, balancing yourself on his broad shoulders as you got down. He steadied you, hands holding your elbows. You could feel a mix of your slick and his cum trailing down your leg. You cringed internally, thinking of trailing the mess on the new carpets, but it also kinda turned you on. You chewed your lip, glancing up at him.

His face held an easy, goofy grin. You found yourself wanting to kiss him again. You pushed the thought away. 

The two of you hadn’t even made it out of the entryway. You picked up your blouse and bra.

“Where’s the bathroom?” You muttered, gesturing vaguely down at the mess hidden by your skirt. 

“Shit, right.” He continued into the suite, which you took as your cue to follow. He pointed to the first door, and you ducked past his outstretched arm and into the bathroom. 

You made quick work of getting yourself cleaned up, wetting a washcloth you found folded in the closet and wiping yourself down after peeing. But you stayed in the bathroom longer than you needed to, examining the red marks he’d peppered across your neck and chest. 

You wondered what he was thinking. Did he want you to leave now? Should you leave? How did aftercare work in friends-with-benefits situations? Would it be rude to leave? 

There were probably some conversations you needed to be having. Like not leaving such obvious hickeys. You sighed, pulling on your bra and blouse, not bothering to button it yet. 

_Blackwatch._

The thought caused your gut to drop. You felt like you were gonna be sick. 

How were you going to do this? Were you really going to do this? 

_He’d probably fall for it again._

Those had been her words. It made you feel dirty. Fuck, you were dirty. You’d glimpsed his computer on the way to the bathroom, in his bedroom. You were the better option. If it wasn’t you, it was a mercenary who didn’t share your… _history_ with Reyes. Someone who wouldn’t shy from taking the data in a manner that could hurt him. You had to do this. You were the better option. 

You rested your head in your hands, clenching your jaw and eyes shut. 

“You alright in there?” His voice was muffled from the other side. You took a deep breath in. Deep breath out. Steeled your nerves. 

“Yeah, be out in a sec.” 

You opened your eyes, staring down your reflection. You smoothed your skirt. Pushed your damp hair back. You opened the bathroom door, beginning to button up the blouse on your way out to where you’d heard Reyes’ voice.

He was at the counter in the kitchen, apparently already having straightened himself out, he looked like nothing had happened. He turned when he heard you enter, and whistled teasingly at your disheveled appearance. 

You scowled, waving him off. Reyes only chuckled softly, going to his fridge and grabbing a couple beers. It was your favorite when you’d served with Overwatch, you’d toasted with it too many times after near death experiences in the Omnic Crisis. You didn’t know he liked it too. He passed you one, and you finished buttoning your top before cracking it.

“This is the kitchen by the way.” He waved his beer around the room. “Sorry you didn’t get a better tour.”

You shrugged.

“You have a nice entryway.” You took a swig, nose crinkling at the taste. You remembered it tasting a lot better. It was probably the euphoria of not dying that had made it taste good all those years ago. “You should show me your bedroom sometime.” You winked, and felt a piece of you die inside. Not that you believed in the whole Heaven and Hell thing, but you were going to Hell for what you would do to him. He grinned around his drink. 

“Maybe later?” 

“I’ve got a flight tomorrow morning.”

“I can drive you to the airport. Take some time to catch up with a friend. Who knows when we’ll see each other next?” There were butterflies in your stomach. 

“Alright Reyes.” Your smile was small, and despite the horrible feelings that swirled beneath, it was a genuine one. 

“Do you wanna grab some lunch off the watchpoint?” 

“Sure.” You paused, looking down at yourself. You weren’t exactly fit for lunch out. 

“You look fine. I was thinking cheap burgers. If you want, we can stick your clothes into the dryer, or take a shower.” 

You chuckled. 

“You just want me naked for an hour.” He shrugged, a shamelessly appreciative glance down your body caused your cheeks to flush.

“I wouldn’t mind it, but I was going to offer up one of my shirts. It should be big enough to cover you up. Unless you didn't want to wear anything, in which case, be my guest-.”

“I’ll take you up on it.” He nodded, setting his beer down and gesturing for you to follow. He led you to the room across from the bathroom. 

It wasn’t large by any means, most of the room taken up by the queen sized bed, which looked like it had never been slept in. But it was nicer than all the dorms you’d had while working with Overwatch. Across from the bed was a desk, with a large monitor. His datapad lie next to it. Your mind flew to the datapad in your bag, in the entryway next to your shoes. Reyes opened the closet door next to the desk, ducking inside and leaving you to wait for him outside. You sat on the bed, eyeing the monitor. What would you find in there?

Reyes returned, a dark gray t-shirt in his hands. He tossed it to you, and you caught it with ease. 

“Do you want me to wash your clothes?” He asked, eyes on you as you started stripping, unbuttoning the blouse. 

“If you don’t mind.”

“It’s not a hassle.” You handed him the blouse, deciding to keep your bra and start unzipping your skirt. You mumbled a thanks, giving him the rest of your clothes and slipping on the shirt. It was barely covered your ass, but it was soft, and smelled like him. 

“I’ll give it back when my clothes are done.”

Reyes took the clothes, turning and leaving the room to put them in the laundry. You weren’t sure if you should follow him out, or what. It reminded you of going to a friends house for the first time as a kid, and then having that friend leave you alone in the house while they did a chore or something. 

You could take the opportunity to download the data off his monitor, or his datapad, but your datapad was out in the entryway. And if you were spending the night here, you’d have another chance to download it.

He was a heavy sleeper. At least, he was after sex. You’d learned that after the gala. 

“Are you alright?” 

You jumped, heart shooting into your throat. He was leaned up against the open door frame, a weird look on his face. 

“Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.” He looked apologetic. You laughed, forcing a smile on your face. 

“I’m good.”

“Are you sure?” He paused, eyeing you. “You’ve been, I don’t know, distant.”

Your throat felt thick.

“If I’ve made you uncomfortable in any way, or if you feel pressured, please tell me. I know I was your CO, and I don’t want you to feel like you can’t say no-.”

“No, Reyes, It’s not that, I’m just…” you took a moment to think. “Tired. I’m just tired.” He looked unconvinced, but didn’t press you. “I flew in late last night and couldn’t sleep at the hotel. I’m running on two hours of sleep and half of a shitty complementary breakfast muffin.” You chuckled. He seemed to relax a little.

God he was so good. Too good for you. Here he was, worrying about you. Worried that he’d hurt you, or that he was overstepping his bounds. 

“You’re-“ Reyes hesitated, his eyes falling to the floor, “one of my best friends. I want you to feel safe around me.”

_Best friends._

Fuck. The statement hurt. 

You stood up, crossing the room and enveloping him in your arms, burying your face in his chest. He melted into the hug, immediately wrapping his arms around you and holding you close.

“I do.” You got out, muffled by his sweatshirt. 

After a few more heartbeats, you pulled away, just enough to examine the look on his face. 

“Can I do something for you?” He looked vaguely puzzled. “To show you that I want this. I don’t feel pressured by you.” You pulled your arms from around his sides, down to hold his hands. He wet his lips, but seemed unsure. “...Only if you want.” You assured, squeezing his large, rough hands. Reyes nodded. You pulled him closer to your body, and then spun him around, so the backs of his legs hit the bed. He fell backwards, propping himself up on the backs of his forearms. The pupils of his eyes dilated, watching you as you pulled down the waistband of his pants. 

You were doing this because you wanted to. Because you wanted your friend to know you were comfortable around him, and that you wanted to treat him well. 

His length was hardening rapidly, you could feel it through his black briefs. 

“I wanted to fuck you even when you were my CO.” You locked eyes with him, the confession still on your lips as you lowered yourself to kneel between his legs. His dark eyes were half-lidded, his breath caught in his chest. You pressed a light kiss to the inside of his clothed thigh, before pulling his clothes down further. “The first time I saw you I knew I was in trouble. I wanted to taste you so badly. I wanted you inside of me.”

His length was straining at the briefs now. Your hands pulled his pants off the rest of the way, and then ran up his thick, strong legs, reveling in his body. They ghosted over him, and his lips caught between his teeth. 

“Mostly I just wanted to do this.” You slowly pulled the briefs down, allowing his cock freedom. You took it gently in your hand, pressing a kiss to his tip, your eyes flicking up to his. You smiled at the flush on his face and took him into your mouth, small and slow bobs at first. Your hands rested on his thighs, bracing yourself as you slowly, torturously, sunk down onto his dick. He tasted salty, and faintly like yourself, from when he had fucked you earlier. It made you wet to think about. 

He groaned as you held eye contact, one of his big hands coming up to brush hair out of your face and behind your ear. 

His length was hot in your mouth, you ran your tongue from side to side on the base of it, relishing in the way he gasped, his muscles tensing. You released him from your mouth, allowing your jaw a moments rest before licking a stripe up the length of his cock. He was so thick and long it was hard to go nonstop, but you’d be damned if you didn’t give it a shot. You kissed his thigh again, eyes never leaving his. His mouth was barely agape, soft breaths leaving his parted lips as he watched you with lust. You nipped at the tender skin, in love with the way his arms flexed as he tried to remain calm and put together. 

Returning to your worship, you grasped what you couldn’t reach with your mouth with a free hand. He swore, his head falling backwards and eyes shut. His scarred hand, the one with the scar from Norway, found your cheek, cupping it tenderly as his sides heaved with effort. 

Pride swelled up in your chest. You had done this to him. You could make this man fall apart under your touch, at your mercy. 

You quickened the pace, he was close. Your jaw was sore, but you wanted him to enjoy this. You moved your tongue in the same way that had made him cum at the gala. He moaned, a beautiful, low sound, his whole body tensing as he came. The taste was bitter and you’d be lying if you said you enjoyed it, but you swallowed every last drop, and kept sucking as he finished. 

You released him with a ‘pop’ sound, letting his cock fall from your lips. 

“Shit.” He murmured, falling back onto the bed. You laughed, wiping your lips with the back of your hand. “Come up here.” His voice was low and soft with that post-sex relaxed tone to it. You got up onto the bed, sitting next to him semi-awkwardly. To be honest, after a confession like that, even after oral he seemed to have enjoyed very much, you weren’t quite sure how to act. “What are you thinking about?” Reyes’ dark eyes were on you, his eyebrows knit together. “What are you doing, dork? Come here.” He teased, pulling you down to lay next to him. 

You laid almost atop him, landing somewhat clumsily and having to untangle your arms so that you could throw one over his broad chest. He chuckled, nuzzling his face into your hair.

“Thank you.” His voice rumbled. You yawned, feeling your eyes drift closed heavily. 

“My pleasure.” Your voice was soft with exhaustion.

“Do you just want to go to bed?”

Truth be told, nothing sounded better than just staying here, tangled up with him in his bed. 

You knew that would never be an option. At least, not one that you deserved, or would get. 

Against your better judgement, you nodded.

“Yes please.” 

He laughed, disentangling your limbs from himself and hopping off the bed. He pulled off the hoodie, revealing his bare chest, and pulled on a pair of sweats from his closet. Reyes climbed back in, patting the bed next to him. 

You sighed, getting up and crawling under the covers next to him. You fell asleep faster than you would’ve thought possible, your back to his.

…

You woke up alone. At first, you panicked, unsure of these strange new surroundings. And then you remembered where you were, and the panic subsided. The room was dark, no light filtering in from the long, flat window high on the bedroom wall. The bed was empty apart from yourself, his pillow cold. 

For a moment you wondered if he was getting his revenge for your leaving him after the gala. But he hadn’t even mentioned the fact, much less that it had bothered him. You were probably just overthinking it. You sighed, swinging your legs over the side of the bed and hopping out, your bare feet meeting the cold stone floor.

The apartment was empty too. As you turned back around to return to the bedroom, you spotted the sticky note on the front door. Your feet slapped on the floor as you crossed to grab it. 

_Figured you would be hungry, ran out to grab some food. -Gabriel_

A smile pulled on the corners of your sore lips.

It fell when you spotted your bag. You weren’t going to get a better chance than this. You stowed the note away in your bag without thinking and grabbed your datapad. 

Gabriel hadn’t changed his password since you’d worked under him as a part of Blackwatch. _ZaCc0sta_. His favorite BMXer as a kid. You weren’t sure why you remembered that, but you were glad he hadn’t changed his password. His monitor loaded into what he’d been working on before he logged off. A report on the Rome explosion from a few months ago. A Blackwatch base, targeted in a terrorist attack by an organization whose name you didn’t recognize. _Talon._ It sent a chill up your spine. 

You synced your datapad with his monitor, transferring any and all files with the words Blackwatch or Talon. Your heart was racing. You had no idea how long ago he’d left. He could come back at any minute. And then what? Would you be the latest missing person? Gone without a trace? You thumbed through the files as you waited for the transfer to complete. 

There was a report on a Genji Shimada, complete with attached photos of what looked to be a horrifically bloodied and mangled Japanese man in his twenties. Declared dead by the yakuza, but recovered and revived by Blackwatch. The next photo was what you presumed to be the same man, but he looked more Omnic than human. It made your stomach turn. There were clips of his training, but before you could press play your datapad chimed. The download had completed. You could look through later. You quickly exited the tabs, pulling the Rome report back onto the screen and logging out, being sure to erase any trace that you’d gone through his files.

There was a sound at the door. Your hands flew to your datapad, hiding it behind your back and hopping out of the seat and back into the bed. You slid the datapad in between the mattress and the box spring. Your stomach felt like a rock. The door opened, and you heard the rustling of paper bags and footsteps towards the bedroom. 

As Reyes walked into the bedroom you yawned, stretching your arms high up into the air and giving him a tired smile, as if you’d just woken up. 

“I grabbed some burgers.” He kicked off his shoes and sat down next to you on the bed, handing you a bag and a beer that he must’ve grabbed from the fridge. 

“Awesome, I’m starving.” 

You felt so sick to your stomach you weren’t sure you could eat a bite. But he grinned, unwrapping his burger and digging in. You tried to copy his enthusiasm, but the food tasted like ash in your mouth. He didn’t try to fill the silence, and you felt relieved for it. You weren’t sure you could tell any more lies tonight.

You ate dinner in silence, and when it was done he fell asleep quickly, his back turned to yours. You stayed awake, listening to his slow and steady breaths, and praying for forgiveness to any god that would listen. 

The next morning you woke at five, changed into your fresh clothes and returned his t-shirt. He drove you to the airport with no promises to see each other again soon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> heard y’all like pain

**Author's Note:**

> Suffering time >:)
> 
> ...
> 
> Guess who’s out here posting twice in a week. This bitch! 
> 
> I’ve been getting back into the swing of writing, which has been made easier with the quarantine going on. (Yes, the pandemic is still happening. Wear a goddamned mask if you’re in crowded spaces, and wear it right. Wearing a mask with your nose hangin out??? You look like a fool! Fool!)
> 
> In other news, check out my new tumblr! I can be found at nomelah-ao3, where I can take requests and answer asks! 
> 
> Hope y’all are doing well and staying safe! Thanks for reading:)


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